Rose Red
by BrittanyJenAnn
Summary: Ziva is in the psych ward, unable to remember the team and time is running out. What happened and can the team find the cure before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

"Ziva?" The nurse lightly touched Ziva's arm, "Ziva, your friends are here to see you." She took Ziva's arm gently and led her out of the room. Outside the room, in the recreation area, various people solemnly met with their friends and family. No one was laughing or smiling, no one really wanted to be there.

At the far end of the room, Gibbs, Tony and Tim stood there, waiting. They were trying to smile, but the heavy air of sadness hung over the small group. It was Gibbs that spoke first.

"How are you Ziver?"

They waited patiently as she stared at them, obviously trying to figure out who they were and work out how to respond. After a time she said slowly,

"Good. I am good. Who is Ziver?"

The nurse had stayed for a minute to make sure that everything was okay. "You are sweetie, you're Ziver."

Ziva's brow furrowed as she tried to make the connection. Her face brightened, "Gibbs? Is he here? He calls me Ziver."

Gibbs smiled slightly, "I'm here Ziver."

She frowned as she looked at him. She reached forward, touching his face lightly, then her face lit up.

"It is you! Gibbs!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him. She seemed to then notice the rest of the team. "What's happened? Did we catch a case? Is that why you're all here?" She looked around.

"Where are we?"

"Doesn't matter." Gibbs sat at the table and motioned for her to sit down as well.

She sat across from him, beaming as the others sat down. "Did we catch a case?"

"No case Ziva, we just wanted to hang out with you." Tim smiled at her, glad to see their Ziva once again.

She laughed, "I'm so happy to see you all. We haven't seen each other in months."

The reality was that they'd been there just last week, on the last visitor's day.

"Why haven't you come to see me lately?" Ziva was frowning now.

"We've been helping Gibbs work on his boat." Tim smiled at Ziva, "That way we could get it done so he could come with us."

It was a moral dilemma, one they'd talked about often. Did they lie to Ziva and keep her happy or tell her the truth and upset her? They'd settled on telling her the truth when they could, and telling half-lies if they had to.

Looking around at them, she seem to realize that Ducky wasn't there.

"Where is Ducky?"

Tony glanced at the others before replying lightly, "He's trying to finish his car."

As time wore on, they kept the topics light and moving. Near the end of the time, Gibbs excused himself to go to the bathroom, and everyone except Ziva understood what that meant. He was going to talk to Ziva's doctor, and see what progress she was making, if any.

When he came back, Ziva was asking where they were going to go out to eat. Tony was trying to explain that they weren't going anywhere, but Ziva was not listening.

"I want to go with you! Please! Don't leave me here! They torture me."

Tony tried to stay calm. "They don't torture you."

"You aren't listening!" As Ziva began to get more agitated, she began to forget who they were.

"Leave me alone! Help! They're hurting me!" Nurses came out to try to calm her down and the team quietly left. Gibbs' face was tense, and when they were out of the building they stopped and looked at him, waiting.

"She's not getting better. She's regressing, getting worse everyday. Even the medication isn't helping anymore."

Tony let out a long sigh and Tim touched his shoulder, pain etched on his face.

Gibbs continued, "They want to move her to a more secure facility and take her off all of the medicine."

Tim spoke quietly, "How long would she have?"

Gibbs stared at the ground, "Two or three months. They're still not sure what's wrong with her, and no other medicines help. It's either sedate her until the end, or let her go with what little free will she has left. As we're her family, it's our decision."

With those words spoken, he turned and started to walk away.

"Boss." Tony wasn't ready to give up. "What if we find a cure?"

Gibbs turned halfway around, "It's been three months, DiNozzo. Enough people have tried."

But Tony wasn't going to give up, "Somalia. We did the impossible. We can do it again."

He caught sight of Gibbs' face and started to get angry, "You don't want to help her! Why are you giving up?"

Gibbs' shoulders sank, and he turned around completely to look at Tony, "Do you think it's going to make a difference? Ducky has tried, he's had every doctor he knows try. We don't know what was used. I'm tired of losing the people I care about."

Tony squared his shoulders, looking at Tim. "Then we'll go back and find out. I'm not giving her up. Help us this one last time."

Gibbs nodded slowly, anguish on written on his face. "After this, I'm resigning."

"Me too." Tony wiped a hand across his face and wondered what options they hadn't tried yet.

_Three months earlier. _

"She's gone Jethro. They did everything they could to save her."

"DON'T tell me that they did everything they could, because if they did, they would have saved her damnit!" Gibbs turned and slammed his fist against the wall, leaving a fist sized hole behind.

Director Vance said nothing, just stood there, watching.

"Boss-"

"I don't want to hear it DiNozzo! It's our fault that this happened!" Gibbs flung the papers and files off of his desk and strode to the elevators.

No one made a move to stop him, and when the elevator came, he stepped in and didn't turn back around as the doors closed.

He made his way in a blur, barely conscious of the fact that he was driving. He pulled into his driveway and shut off the car.

He sat there for a moment, letting the overwhelming sadness flood over him. Gibbs got out of the car and made his way inside, not bothering to turn on a light, choosing instead to make his way directly down into the basement.

He turned on the light and looked over the boat, _The Abigail_. He tried to push away the sadness, unsurprised when it didn't work.

He pulled the bottle of bourbon off the bench and didn't bother grabbing the glass next to it.

He took a large drink, swallowing it down.

For a long time he sat on the floor, splayed out in an undignified manner, taking large drinks from the glass bottle.

The bottle, which had started out nearly three-quarters full, was almost empty when he finally saw her.

She was walking down the stairs, hair in two pigtails as always. She smiled when she saw him,

"_Gibbs, I knew I'd find you down here!" _

Her voice was excited, _"What are you doing down here, what's wrong?" _

He smiled, "Thought I lost you Abbs."

For the first time, she frowned slightly, _"Lost me? Gibbs, that's silly, I'm right here." _

"I know." He smiled, "They said you were gone Abbs."

She frowned more this time, _"Who said I was gone? That's not very nice of them." _

She moved across the room and stood next to him, looking down at him.

"I'm glad you're here."

She smiled, _"You know something Gibbs? I think if we weren't coworkers, I might fall in love with you." _

Gibbs stared at up her, surprised but happy. "I could bend rule 12 for you, Abby."

She smiled at him, _"What will people say? They'll accuse you of getting soft in your old age. But I don't mi-" _

Gibbs realized with a start that she was fading.

"_Gibbs?"_

Her voice was confused, almost sad.

"Abbs! Hold on! Abby! Don't leave me!"

"_I'm not leaving Gibbs. You're the one who is leaving. Gibbs, I need you. Why didn't you save me? Gibbs! Don't leave me here all alone! Please!" _

She was almost invisible now, and he couldn't see her anymore.

"Abby!" The world went black as he slumped to the floor.

**Part Two**

_9 hours earlier_

"We've got a case, let's go." Agent Jethro Gibbs tossed a set of keys to Agent Tony DiNozzo.

"Where are we going?" Agent Ziva David questioned as she stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Westside, Marine sergeant down. Call Ducky."

"On it." Agent Timothy McGee picked up the phone and uttered a few words to the autopsy specialist before hurrying to catch up to the others.

The drive to the Westside was quick, as traffic was light and the team made it in minimal time.

They parked and got out of the car, going around to look at the downed Marine.

"Shot in the forehead, looks like it was from far away, possibly a sniper situation?" Tony was kneeling over the body, looking up to see where a possible sniper could have shot from.

"That rooftop." Gibbs pointed towards a flat roof that wasn't very far away.

"It'd be a perfect angle to hit anyone passing by. I don't think this was random. Where is Ducky?"

Not long after that, Ducky and Palmer pulled up, Ducky grumbling about Palmer's getting lost again.

"Good afternoon Jethro, what do we have here?"

"Sniper shot him from that rooftop, we need a time of death Duck."

"Impatient as always." Ducky grumbled with a good natured smile. He knelt down and inserted the liver probe.

"Approximately three to four hours ago."

Gibbs looked at his watch, "Around eight? Alright, let's get samples back to Abby."

"Boss, Abby isn't answering her phone." McGee looked worried, and Gibbs sighed, pulling out his phone.

He hit the number that would speed dial Abby and waited for her to pick up. There was no answer.

"Try the lab."

McGee frowned slightly, "I already did Boss. No answer there, and security says she went out for lunch."

"Damnit Abby." Gibbs muttered under his breath, "Stay out of trouble for once. Tony, you and Ziva finish up here. McGee, can you track her phone?"

McGee nodded, pulling out his phone and typing something into it.

"It's moving boss, down Crescent street, going towards the hospital."

Gibbs was already pulling out his keys. "If she calls you, tell her to stay where she is and call me and tell me where she is."

As Gibbs opened the car door, his phone rang. It was an unrecognized number, and he wondered for a minute if Abby had lost her phone and was using a pay phone.

"Hello?"

"_Is this Jethro Gibbs?" _

"Yes."

"_You're listed as the emergency contact for a miss Abby Sciuto?" _

He felt his knees go weak, and he stopped moving.

"What happened?"

"_She was shot, sir. She's going in for surgery now." _

The person on the phone proceeded to tell Gibbs where to go. He hung up, shaking.

The team was staring at him, even Ducky and Palmer were looking at him.

"It's Abby.. She's been.. Shot." Visions of being told that Kelly and Shannon were dead swam before his eyes, and he wondered if God was going to take Abby away too. He had waited too long to tell her that he loved her, waited too long to ask her to live with him.

Ducky seemed to sense what was going on and stood, "Anthony, Ziva, Timothy, finish processing the crime scene. The sooner we're done, the sooner we can find out what happened to Abigail. Jethro, sit down before you pass out. Not in the driver's seat, mind you."

Gibbs sank down next to the car, letting the pain wash over him for a moment before standing up, pushing it away. There were things to do. He pulled out his phone and called Director Vance.

By the time he was done explaining what happened to the director, everyone was ready to go, evidence securely bagged and put away, and the body ready for transportation.

"Straight back to the office, we need to drop off the evidence. She'll be in surgery anyway."

A pained look crossed Ziva's face. "Gibbs? I. I was supposed to go with Abby, but we got this case so she said she would go alone and we'd go a different day."

Gibbs turned to look at her, "Get in the car Ziva. We'll talk about it later." He reached out and touched her shoulder, knowing she felt responsible. "Not your fault Ziver."

She nodded and followed Tony.

When the evidence was temporarily stored in the locker, the team met up outside, driving to the hospital to wait for news about Abby.

They were issued to a waiting room, and for the next six hours all they did was wait. Finally, Ducky came in, and told them all to leave, and he would do his best to find out what was happening. Gibbs wanted to argue and refuse to leave, but he also wanted to know what was going on, so he followed the others.

The team sat at their respective desk, Palmer sitting on a chair next to Tim. Director Vance stood on the stairs, toothpick in his mouth, watching.

When Ducky showed, he looked haggard and old, and Gibbs knew instantly what he was going to say.

**Here's the first chapter of my latest story. I don't have this one finished, but I'm close- so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted. With this story, I am taking certain liberties, some things in this story I have completely made up and for that reason, this story isn't completely factual. As always, let me know what you think! **


	2. Chapter 2

As Gibbs left, Ziva watched him go, then turned to pick up her things. "I am going to get some drinks. Are you coming?"

The three of them arrived at the bar around the same time as each other. Each took a seat at the bar, ordering their drink of choice. Ziva was the first to speak, "I can not believe it."

"None of us can." Tony swallowed another sip.

"It won't be the same down there." McGee propped his head on his hand and stared at the floor.

Tony slammed his empty glass on the table, "I thought it was rough losing Kate. This is…"

"Torture." Ziva finished for him.

"Bad day?" The bartender refilled their glasses, and looked at the three of them.

"We lost Abby."

"Oh man." The bartender shook his head, "She'll be missed."

Tony stood, "I'm going home. Take a personal day if you need to. I'll be at work.." They nodded. McGee shrugged paid the bartender and left, leaving Ziva alone.

She had been programmed from birth to reject emotions, when her sister had died, she had cried once and been thoroughly chastised for it. Tonight was different, tonight she wouldn't be able to ignore the sadness washing through her. Going home was not an option, she was in danger of losing it completely and she needed someone to hold her while she cried. There was no question of who she needed to see, but would he let her in?

It took twenty minutes to get to his apartment. She parked the car and walked up the stairs, taking her time. The sadness was paralyzing and by the time she made it to his door, she could barely stand. She knocked on the door, and sank to the floor, back against the door, chest heaving with twenty-eight years of tears. The door behind her opened, "Ziva?"

She stood and looked at him, he was a mess. "I…"

He reached out for her and she couldn't help the tears that began flowing as she stepped into his arms. He hugged her and pulled her into his apartment. He closed and locked the door, then pulled her into his bedroom. He laid on the bed next to her, holding her, letting her cry.

Tony didn't fall asleep until long after she had fallen asleep. The moonlight came in through the window, lighting up her face. She looked restful now, almost as if she had never had any troubles. He smiled to himself and pulled her closer to him and fell asleep.

Gibbs woke in the morning with a minor headache and back pain from sleeping slumped over. He stood and stretched, debating on taking a shower. It would ease the pain from his back, but he decided against it, he needed to go in, to talk to Vance, inform him of his resignation.

Tony could handle the team, he had before, and he would do it again. Gibbs couldn't take losing people anymore. Maybe he would go to Mexico, buy a little hut on the beach, live a quiet life. He couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of life, Mike Franks knew how to live good.

As he started up the stairs, he heard a knock on the door. It would be Ducky, here to check on him, to make sure that he hadn't killed himself during the night. He opened the door and was unsurprised to see the doctor standing there.

"Duck."

"Morning Jethro. I assume you'll be going in today?"

"I'm not staying."

"I know."

"I can't."

"You've endured far more than you should have had to. We'll miss you. You will tell them goodbye, won't you?"

Gibbs nodded, "I owe them that." _And more._

"It's not your fault Jethro."

Gibbs just stared at him.

"I see." The doctor turned to walk back to his car, "I'll see you in a bit then."

Gibbs grabbed his keys and left the house, not even bothering to change his clothes. Someone was going to have to tell Abby's mother.

Ziva woke up, wondering where she was. She could feel the weight of Tony's arm over her and she remembered instantly.

"Are you awake?" She turned to look at Tony.

He was staring over her, a distant look in his eyes.

"Tony."

His eyes focused again and he looked down at her.

"You're awake."

"Yes. We should go."

He moved his arm and sat up, looking at her. She realized he was worried about her, "You do not think I'm okay."

"I think you're upset about Abby, like I am."

She nodded, getting out of the bed. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, "I look bad." Tony nodded, "I'm sorry."

She looked sharply at him, "Why?"

"Because it makes me sad to see you feeling bad."

Ziva frowned slightly, "You are concerned about me?"

He frowned, "Ziva, I've always been concerned about you."

"Why?"

"A girl like you needs someone to worry about her."

He extended his hand, "Let's go."

She pushed past him and walked to her car. It was too much to take in. She knew that the team at NCIS cared for her, but to hear it confused her. Only her mother had ever cared for her, and that was from a distance.

She drove to the office, trying to ignore the look she had seen in Tony's eyes when she had pushed him away.

When the rest of the team walked in, Ducky was talking to Gibbs and no one made a sound but instead stood near, listening.

"I have asked a trusted friend to fly in from Scotland, he'll be able to do it." Ducky was saying.

Gibbs nodded tersely, "Fine."

"He'll be here tomorrow, I spoke to him last night. He'll need someone to pick him up. Her body is being delivered as soon as he signs off for it." Ducky looked at the rest of the team, "None of us can see her until he's done. Is that clear?"

Slowly they nodded.

Gibbs spoke, "Gear up, we've got a crime scene to comb."

Ziva spoke haltingly, "The other team already.."

"We're redoing it. Now. McGee, you get to down to the lab and process the evidence from yesterday's crime scene. Abby was shot while were there. I don't believe in coincidences."

"Gibbs?" Ziva called, crossing the grass. "Who did you say processed the crime scene?"

Gibbs turned to see her holding up a bag of bullet casings.

"Secondary team. And I guess they're secondary for a reason. Good job."

Gibb's phone rang. "McGee. Got something?"

"Uh, yeah, the bullets from the crime scene yesterday are from a Russian Dragunov SVD, it's a sniper rifle, made during the fifties and used about three decades after that."

Gibbs waved at Ziva, "Ziva! Tell me what kind of bullets those are!"

She looked down at them and then back up, "We need to test them to make sure, but these are Russian, probably from the SVD. It is a good gun."

"I was right." Gibbs was looking up at the building Ziva had found the bullet casings on. "This isn't a coincidence."

Upon returning to the building, Tony and Ziva helped Tim with the evidence that they had collected. Vance said nothing, knowing that his words wouldn't make a difference.

"No fingerprints on the shells, or on anything else. Whoever this is, is smart." Tony looked disgruntled, but Ziva smiled slightly.

"Not as smart as they think they are. It should be easy to track any Russian SVD's that are in the area, not many American's seem to like this gun. All we have to do is find a record of all the visas given to Russians in the past year."

Tony rolled his eyes, "That's all? Do you know how many people that is?"

"With the three of us working on it, it will not take long at all. Especially if we rule out those who returned to their country before last week."

By the time they had gone through nearly three quarters of the visa list, it was after five and Tony was hungry.

"We need food. Ziva, you're with me. Probie, you stay here and keep working. We'll call and ask for your order."

"Okay." Tim replied agreeably.

As Tony and Ziva made their way to his car, Ziva spoke quietly, "Gibbs is going to leave."

Tony nodded once. "I know."

"He'll tell us, I am sure. But he won't stay." Ziva cast a glance at Tony, "That will make you team leader. I am sure you will do well."

Tony shrugged, "I'm not sure I'll take it. I don't think I want to stay either. I want to do something less exciting. Something with a normal schedule."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know. Maybe I could teach at Quantico."

Ziva nodded, causing one of her earrings to drop to the ground. She frowned, "This is the third time today! I am never wearing these ones again." When Tony stopped to wait, she waved him on, "I will catch up."

Tony inserted his key into the lock on his door and turned it and Ziva froze, listening intensely. "Tony!" He turned to look at her, and she launched herself up at him, grabbing him and pulling him down to the pavement as fast as she could, turning her face to the side and using her arm to cover it.

Behind them, Tony's car exploded into the air.

Alarms went off around the parking lot as debris rained down around them. When Ziva could no longer feel anything pelting her back, she started to get up, only to hear another explosion, causing her to lay back down on the ground.

"What the hell is going on?" Tony shouted, trying to get up. Ziva kept her left hand on the back of his neck, not letting him move.

By this time, Gibbs and the rest of the team were outside, with fire trucks blaring towards the parking lot.

Ziva let Tony up and carefully sat up herself. Her back was sore from the raining debris, but she was alive.

"What happened?" Gibbs was looking at the wreckage.

"Tony unlocked his car door and armed a bomb that was somewhere on the car."

Tony turned to look at Ziva, "I don't know how you heard that. I didn't even hear it."

Ziva shrugged slightly, "I am trained to hear it."

"Well," Said Gibbs, "We know Tony isn't the target of the killer."

Tony's mouth gaped open, "But, boss, I was nearly killed!"

"Exactly. If you were the target, you'd be the last to die." Gibbs looked over at Ziva and Tim, "So unless Tim has been making enemies, it's either about me or Ziva. Let's figure out who."

**Sorry I just now got this up! Pure laziness on my part. I should have the next chapter up much sooner. Thanks for all the reviews and adds to story alert! **


	3. Chapter 1 Redux

He held his breath, waiting.

Any minute now, the capital of Israel and all the leaders and politicians in it would go up in a beautiful explosion of C-4 and old fashioned dynamite.

He was sitting on a bench, pretending to read the newspaper, people walked by him as if nothing had happened. He checked his watch again, it should have gone off already.

Why was no one running or screaming?

Did they not care that their leaders were dying at this very moment?

He scoffed, all the better reason that he started with Israel. He was tired of people no longer fearing Russia.

Something had to be done, someone had to show the world that Russia was to be feared. He had tried talking to the leaders of Russia, but they had not even bothered to see him.

They had ignored his calls and ignored his letters, so he had decided to act alone. It was easy enough to get the supplies he needed, and luck had been on his side when he had made it into the country.

He checked his watch again, it was ten minutes late.

He glared at the passing people and stood, walking quickly to his hotel. There was still nothing. Anger was boiling up inside of him, he had done everything right, it should have blown up!

He wanted to venture down there, to see what was going on, but if it had only delayed, he would be caught in it. He looked around again, then went up to his room, looking out the small window.

Maybe there would be something on the television. He turned it on and flipped through the channels until he caught sight of a news program, with a male reporter standing in front of the camera, speaking quickly.

His knowledge of the language that was being spoken was not very good, but he understood various words,

"Bomb…. Ziva David… Mossad leader… Eli David."

A pretty young woman with her hair pulled back tightly was shown, she was pushing past the cameras trying to help someone into a car.

She had found the bomb. He was outraged, how did this happen?

He hadn't made it easy to diffuse, her knowledge of bombs would have to be extensive.

He breathed in deeply, trying to stop the rage that was building up.

First things first, he needed to get out of the country, go back to Russia.

It wouldn't take long to get on a plane, and be out of the country. Once he was on the plane, he would come up with a plan.

The plane was large, and it was easy enough to slip into a different seat than he had booked. With almost two hundred passengers, no one would notice him.

He leaned back into the seat, closing his eyes, allowing his seat mate to think he was scared of flying.

He needed a plan. He had been able to look up information on this woman before he left the airport. She was important, good at her job, she was the daughter of the Mossad leader.

She would be well trained, and from the footage he had seen, she was almost a robot. It'd be difficult to reach her. She'd consider anything he did part of the job, part of her duty. Killing her now would be no fun, and would do nothing to make him happy.

So he would wait. She couldn't be like this forever. Eventually she'd fall in love, or have a child, or show some targetable weakness.

Then he'd strike and take away the people she loved, letting her feel the pain of losing them before finally killing her.

And somewhere along the way, he'd make Israel the example, and the rest of the world would finally bow to Russia.

_Washington D.C., 2011_

Ziva David had done exactly as he knew she would. After years of following her around the world, sometimes losing her completely, she had finally settled down. He had been tempted to strike earlier, but things had happened and the team had been split up and moved around.

He had stayed where he was, knowing that she would come back, and he wasn't disappointed. They had all come back, including Miss David. It wouldn't be long now, before he had the perfect opportunity to start on his plan.

She was close to the entire team, he could see that. He watched her go on shopping trips with the dark haired goth girl, watched her flirt with the two men, watched her bask like daddy's little girl with the older man. He knew all about her family troubles, he'd listened to her talk to Daddy on the phone, heard the tension, saw the body language that said that she would rather be with her new family.

And that was when he knew to act, when he saw that she had grown to really care about them.

It wouldn't take much to rip the team apart, a bullet here, a bomb there, and before she knew it, she'd be trapped in his basement. He wouldn't torture her, she was Mossad, he'd get no joy out of torturing her, she'd be able to mask her emotions and keep herself from doing any of the things that made torture fun.

On second thought, perhaps he'd emotionally torture her. Physical torture would do nothing, but pictures of her dead friends, video of them dying, that would possibly work. Maybe he'd torture one of the men on her team. He had spent time studying them and he wasn't yet sure who she liked, but he was fairly certain that the more geeky one would be easier to torture

He could tape it and make her watch it, all the while telling her that it was her fault that they had gone through this. It'd break her down very quickly, and then he'd kill her.

It wouldn't be easy, agents of any sort did not make for easy targets. He'd done his research on the boss, he was a former Marine Sniper, and he was nearly infallible.

It would take time, but it would be easy to kill him in the end.

The device was planted on the Mustang, and it wouldn't be long before the handsome one was gone. He was arranged nicely on the top of a building watching families eat their picnic lunches out on a large grassy field.

The pretty goth girl reminded him of the women back home, nicely pale, with contrasting features, and the cold breeze that swept across him now made him wish all of this was done so he could go back to Russia, where it would be deliciously cold.

He detested the hot sun that was beating down on him, even as a child he had never liked the sun. His mother had always encouraged him to go play outside, but he had protested, and spent his time inside.

It was unfathomably warm for December, and he wiped sweat from his brow as he waited.

The pretty goth unwrapped her lunch and arranged it on the blanket. She took a bite and he steadied his hand, looking into the scope, somehow amazed that he had not yet been spotted.

She took another bite and her ruby red lips moved in such a way, that for a minute he considered not killing her, but taking her and hiding her away for his own personal use. Perhaps he could convince her to go with him to Russia, those ruby red lips in snow and ice would look lovely and set apart.

But he had spent enough time watching her that he knew that she would never submit to him, and he spend every day fighting her, trying to keep her. It would not be worth the trouble. Not when there were others in his hometown, he would show them his gun, let them assume that he was important in the military, and they would sleep with him willingly.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, squeezing the trigger lightly, jerking slightly as a bird hit him. He cursed under his breath, watching almost as if without sound as the bullet pierced the lovely goth. Her ruby red lips opening slightly and then she fell backwards, blood staining her clothes.

The people in the crowd began to scream and he moved slowly, taking his gun with him. By the time they figured it out, he would be gone.

**There you go! Another chapter. :) Reality is dragging me beneath the surface and trying to drown me, so I'm not sure when I'll put up the next one. :/ Thanks for all the reviews!**


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm going for food. What do you want?" Tim stood and waited to hear the orders from the others before he left the building.

The day was bright and sunny, with only a chilly breeze to remind him that it was December. He felt his heart drop as he saw Abby's parking space, and he tried to keep himself from thinking about the fact that right now she was laying on a cold slab in the morgue.

He decided against taking his car, opting to walk instead, hoping that it would help clear his head.

When he woke, he was tied to a chair, with a camera recording him. He struggled against the ropes holding him in place but was unable to get free. The last thing he remembered was walking to get food.

"Hello Timothy."

He stopped struggling and looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. He saw a speaker box in one of the corners and glared at it for a minute before looking back at the camera.

"You are probably wondering why you are here."

Tim shook his head, "No. I don't care why I'm here."

"Of course you do! I am going to torture and kill you, and will want to know why!" The voice was full of anger now.

"Nah, I really don't care. You can just go ahead and kill me." Tim knew that in order to kill him, the man would have to come into the room and show himself. Tim worked his wrists slowly, realizing he could move his right hand quite a bit. The man seemed to be getting sloppy, he hadn't managed to kill Tony, and perhaps that made him angry and unable to do his best work.

He slipped his hand from the rope, but left it in place, discreetly undoing the other rope. Now if only he could get his feet free.

"Let me tell you why I am doing this!"

"I don't care! Your plan won't work! You are going to fail!" When there was no reply, Tim grinned. "What's the problem? Your mom not hug you enough? Did she forget to send you a present this year for your birthday? That sucks."

He was acting more brave than he felt, but if helped bring down Abby's killer, he'd do anything.

The door opened and a short man wearing a ski mask entered the room. His clothes were not unusual, and had it not been for the ski mask, nothing would have seemed out of place.

"I'm going to torture you. And you won't be able to defend yourself, because I found your knife." The man held up a knife and Tim recognized it as his back up knife.

He moved slightly and felt hard metal of his first knife, pressing lightly against his waist. Following along Tony's idea, he'd spent one night fixing his belt and making sure that he could secure a small knife in the back of the band without it being noticeable unless someone really looked. He'd even gone so far as to paint the side of the knife visible a dark brown, closely matching his belt. The knife the man had found had been worked into his belt buckle like Tony's.

Now he just needed a way to discreetly get his knife out of his belt. Small talk would be the best way, as long as the man didn't realize what was going on.

"Pretty brave of you to record me. It's going to make it really easy to convict you when I escape with that camera."

The man laughed slowly, "You'll never escape."

He turned to get something from outside the door and Tim moved one of his hands as quickly as he dared, pulling the knife from it's hiding spot. With that done, he returned his hand to it's spot and waited. The door was open, he could make it out of the room, but he wanted to do something to this man.

He knew exactly what Tony would say, "Don't be stupid Probie. Get out of there."

He was willing to just leave and not try to hurt the man, but he needed something that they could use to figure out who he was.

Hadn't the man been wearing a jacket? Tim was sure of it, and if he could find the jacket, it'd have some sort of DNA on it.

Tim waited until the man was fully inside the room, then sprung from his chair.

The man tried to grab at him, but Tim was ready for it and dodged him easily. He ran out of the room and saw the man's blue jacket on the chair outside the door. He grabbed it and kept running, hoping to find a way out.

The jacket was heavy, maybe it was a cell phone. As he ran, he reached into the pocket and felt around.

It _was _a cell phone. He pulled it out and opened it, the screen came to life. Glancing behind, seeing the man still following him.

He was grateful for the fact that he had gotten in shape, but it wouldn't take long before the man caught up to him.

Dialing the numbers, hoping that they were right, he pressed the send button and put the phone to his ear.

The phone rang, once, twice, three times.

"Gibbs."

"Boss, it's me, I don't know where I am but he's chasing me."

"McGee?"

Tim listened as Gibbs told Tony to start a trace.

"Can you see any landmarks?"

"I.." Tim looked around, it was dark out, but in the distance he could see a subway line. "There's a subway."

There was a crack and Tim realized he was being shot at.

"Boss, he's shooting at me."

"Keep going Tim. We've almost got it."

Everything around him fell silent and Tim looked back to see the man was gone. He heard a car start up, and he dove to the side and hid as well as he could and waited. The car sped past and Tim spoke the license plate numbers he managed to get aloud, hoping that Gibbs was paying attention.

"Got it. What's going on?"

"He left. That's all I got of the license plate. Dark car, four door, sedan, I think."

"We've got your location. Be there in ten."

The wait was long, or at least it felt that way to Tim. He was tired and still feel sluggish from the drugs. Adrenaline was slowly leaving his system, and he found himself cold. He was still clutching the jacket, and he refused to let it go, hoping that there was still DNA on it.

The sound of screeching tires brought his attention to the street and within minutes he saw Gibbs and Tony getting out of the car.

"Over here."

Tim looked around, "Where's Ziva?"

Tony looked grim. "She's missing. We found pieces of her phone on the ground, smashed."

Tim stood, "We need to go, I have his jacket. We need to find her."

"First you get checked out." Gibbs was not going to budge.

"No. I'm fine. Ducky can look at me while we work. We need to find Ziva!"

Anger coursed through him, he could have stopped the man, got him with his knife and made him tell where Ziva was.

"I could have stopped him."

"You did the right thing. Let's go."

Tony held out an evidence bag and Tim deposited the jacket inside, his hands clenching into fists.

"Let's go find her."

** Life took a major turn- for the better, so I should be able to get more chapters up sooner! I know this story is kind of hard to follow- sorry. The timeline is a bit messy. In the present, Ziva is in the Psych ward, and right now, we're looking back 3 months, where it shows how she ended up there. The next few chapters happen simultaneously, but you should be able to figure it out. If you have any questions, let me know! **


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